Tag Archives: SD38



Saturday 10th July. 9 miles.

    The morning of our final day starts misty and damp. We struggle to find anywhere to park near the coast – it is all PRIVATE and NO PARKING signs and feels unfriendly. We ask at Low farm and they point us to a secure place in their yard. From Old Ellerby we are a happy to follow little lanes for most of the morning. We see nothing of the hall at Burton Constable. At last, a footpath alongside a drain gives some relief from the tarmac. We meet locals walking the lanes, one couple exercising their two energetic Spaniels. There is talk of drilling in nearby fields – fracking or natural gas? An industrial plant looms out of the mist on a path we do not follow. Our path into Aldbrough shows enough fractures to be worried about.

At Aldbrough, we head for the church and find a seat for some lunch. The Church, St. Bartholomew’s, is from the C12th and built predominantly with course cobbles.P1030818P1030825P1030821P1030822P1030816P1030824

The narrow lane takes us past our parked car and onto the top of the crumbling cliffs – the end of our walk  – or is it. We had seen fishermen on the cliff top and now they were down on the beach, so there must be a way down. All around are private and no entry signs, but I can rely on Sir Hugh to persevere, before we know it we are on the sands. A chat to the fishermen, whom are casting for Skate, and then using GPS we are exactly on the 438 latitude line which we draw in the sand. A satisfying end to our straight line coast to coast from Blackpool started in January 2019. It is unlikely that anyone else has done or will do this walk, making it quite unique.P1030828P1030832P1030854P1030846P1030843P1030841

We return to Low Farm along the crumbling cliff path and buy some fresh eggs from the 5year old who is in charge of the chickens. They are preparing for a family birthday party tonight, it should have been in Ibiza. Friendly people living in a distinctive landscape.P1030855P1030858



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A straight line, 121.78 miles.  We have taken 16 days and I estimate walked 157 miles.

Check out http://conradwalks.blogspot.com/ for an alternative story.

Capture 438line


P1030765Friday 9th July.      11.5 miles.

We are back at the golf course – dare we park in the President’s space – better not. The road into town leads through the common, the cows have moved to a cooler place. A dog walker tells us that sometimes the cows turn up in the town streets. P1030739



Our one point of reference is the Minster, and we are amazed at its size and presence. On a more mundane note, we spot the cream boxes of Hull Telephone Department, a separate entity to BT. We do not do Beverley justice as we slink along side-streets, aiming for the all important bridge across the River Hull. P1030747P1030748P1030750P1030751

Time seems to be dragging in the oppressive heat, so we are pleased to come across a café alongside the river. Two no-nonsense mugs of tea revive our flagging spirits.P1030755P1030754

This necessary crossing of the Hull and a major dyke took us just over one mile from our straight line, probably the most we have deviated on the whole walk. Once the bridge is crossed, a new land opens up – flat drained fields as far as the eye can see. Sir Hugh likened it to the ’empty quarter’. Fields of barley, wheat, rape and linseed. We are soon through Weel where complicated footpaths could have taken us south, but we had an eye to a black hashed line on the map following the Holderness drain. This proves to be an accessible and newly cut embankment, and we are soon at Meaux Bridge where a locked gate has to be negotiated. Something tells me that we weren’t supposed to be in there. It pains me to show the picture of Sir Hugh’s struggle.P1030759P1030760


The empty quarter.



Cornflower and mustard.





Little roads wander through the Benningholme Estate. The highlight along here was whilst we are sitting on a log, a man appears from the nearby house with offers of iced orange. These are very welcome and we spend time in conversation with him and his neighbour. Once the world has been put to rights we resume our journey to Skirlaugh, taking a field path for the last stretch.P1030783

The early C15th Church here takes us by surprise – according to Pevsner, a “gem of the early-perpendicular” style.


A couple more miles on narrow lanes, crossing the Trans Pennine Trail/Cycleway which ends in Hornsea, and we are back at our car at The Blue Bell  pub in Old Ellerby.P1030794P1030795

It’s been a hot and sweaty day, relieved thankfully by our two unexpected drink stops.


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P1030735 (2)Thursday 8th July.    10.5 miles.

   You may wonder how we then found ourselves atop of a windmill.

   In hot sunshine we had been walking uphill on a minor road for about 5 miles when we decamped into a field for some lunch. I suggested to Sir Hugh that today’s post would be fairly short as little had happened, he wondered if anything exciting would occur towards the end.  We eventually left the road and found a footpath going in our direction, don’t forget we are following a straight line as close as possible to latitude Northing 438. This we gratefully followed onto the golf course and whilst getting our bearings got into conversation with a friendly chap walking across the course. We asked for the best way to cross towards a windmill we had seen marked on the map. Having explained what we were doing, he wanted to discuss the long distance paths he had walked and also suggested to us the best pub in Beverley – the gas lit Nellie’s.(the White Horse) His wife and friend had by now walked away,  we parted and approached the windmill which was surrounded by a large herd of cattle, so we didn’t get up close. Beverley Minster could be seen down below through the trees. We now made a b-line to the clubhouse, where our car was parked, and whilst photographing the windmill there our man approached again and asked if we would like to go up it. Turns out Brendon is President of the club! He tells us of the history of the course, founded in 1889 and the unusual nature of it being on common land with the cows wandering freely. There are local rules for if your ball lands in a hoof mark or even worse cow dung, apparently the greens are fenced around to keep them free of animals. Next thing we were all climbing the rickety stairs up the inside of the mill, We paused on the second floor to admire the clock mechanism gently ticking away. Once on the top parapet, we had views of the surrounding countryside in all directions. 


On the golf course.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     




El Presidente.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  








Zoom to Beverley Minster.

A strange but interesting meeting. 


   The day had started back at North Cliffe where we parked next to the church, we are using two cars to facilitate this linear walk. The church and hall caretaker appears, so we get some history of the estate and the church. He has been doing this work for 50 odd years and lives in an estate house opposite, we saw the Lodge yesterday – all of a similar architecture. Most interesting is that the founder of the estate was a Samuel Fox, who invented a steel ribbed umbrella superior to his competitors. He went on to establish a large steel producing complex. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Fox_(industrialist)  Mr Fox funded the building of this little church, dedicated to St John,  and was buried in its graveyard shortly after its completion in 1887.

The path out of North Cliffe doesn’t exactly go up a cliff, but does climb quite steeply up an escarpment which is the beginnings of the Yorkshire Wolds and into the pretty village of North Newbald. Old cottages surround a village green, complete with church and pub., quintessential English. We investigate a house on the green which had been the village school, the owners appear to give us some history and suggest cups of tea, we politely decline – if we had known what was coming on the road walk we would have accepted their offer.

Climbing the ‘cliffe’


Anybody with a dog or an MX5 gets a picture.

The old school.

It was then we began our hot  and sweaty ascent on minor roads farther into the Wolds. I walked the Wolds Way with Mel way back in 1999, no wonder I don’t recognise it. All up and down between extensive fields.


We eventually escape onto the golf course…


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